


Pick Me, Choose Me, Want Me

by millijayne13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millijayne13/pseuds/millijayne13
Summary: Request: george weasley. Friends to lovers AU. Prompts: angst 10 and fluff 1 - anon
Relationships: George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Pick Me, Choose Me, Want Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr @iliveiloveiwrite
> 
> Warnings: angst with a happy ending, unrequited love? A CHEESY ENDING - SO CHEESY.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!

It was friendship, wasn’t it, if you sometimes dreamed of the other?

It was friendship, wasn’t it, if you wondered what it would like to taste them; to take them in your arms and kiss them senseless?

It was friendship, wasn’t it, if you loved them beyond all capacity; wholly and irrevocably loved them without a trace of doubt within your body, mind or soul?

He’s loved you silently for years now. He wouldn’t tell you; he couldn’t tell you – your friendship being one of the few things he cherished with his whole being.

For so long, you’ve featured in his daydreams – smiling at him as you wake up in the morning, kissing him goodnight, being there in the middle of the night for him to reach out and hold. For so long, he’s admired you afar – looking away when his heart races too fast or wiping his hands on his trousers when a smile from you makes his palms sweat.

He simply never expected to lose you so quickly.

\----

It started with a passing mention; dropping his name in a meaningless conversation about plans for the weekend. George didn’t think much of it, truthfully. You had been friends with Benjamin through school; helping him with his grades, laughing with him in class. George had never been bothered because, at the end of the day, you always came back to him.

George reels back when you mention your plans, “A date?”

You roll your eyes, “To some, George, I am attractive.”

“With Benjamin? From Hogwarts?”

You look at George as if he’s grown three heads, “Yes, the very same Benjamin. Why does that matter?”

George sniffs; averting his eyes, “It doesn’t. I just didn’t know he was still in the country, I thought he moved away for work.”

You nod, “He did, but he’s moved back. We ran into each other a couple of weeks ago.”

George nods along as you regale him with the story; how you had ran into Benjamin in Diagon Alley, barely recognising him at first when he called out your name. You had to laugh when you eventually recognised him; five years really does make a difference to one’s looks. From there, you started to catch up – it was nice speaking to him. He didn’t ask you out until two days ago when he sent a bouquet of flowers to your work. You had to accept; the flowers were gorgeous, after all.

After some time, George zones out, and it isn’t because your story is boring him. It’s because he feels as if he’s going into survival mode; protecting his heart by not listening to that which could hurt it.

Briefly, George wonders how long he has until he loses you completely.

\-------

A month later, George has his answer.

You rush to the flat George shares with Fred; barely knocking before letting yourself in and slumping on his couch with a long groan.

George can’t help the chuckle that leaves him as he adjusts your legs; sitting down next to you. “What’s wrong, love?” He asks; concerned at the dramatic way you entered his home.

“Benjamin told me he loves me.”

George moves away; not wanting you to see the hurt in his eyes, “Do you love him?”

You fiddle with your fingers; mouth opening and closing as you try to think of an answer. George nods; smiling humourlessly – he has his answer.

He stands from the couch; needing to be anywhere but here right now. It was the one day of the week when the shop wasn’t open, but George supposes he could break the rules for this. He could break the rules to ensure that he doesn’t break until night has fallen and his room is dark in which his tears aren’t visible.

“Where are you going?” You ask; voice lined with worry.

George pats the pockets of his waistcoat; feeling around for the keys to the shop, “I have to go.”

**“Don’t leave,”** You plead, reaching for his hand; desperation heightening your voice.

“I have to. I have to go to the shop,” George whispers.

“Why? Tell me that at least.”

**“I think I’m in love with you,”** He says; turning to you, ripping his hand from yours, “I think I’m in love with you and I can’t sit by and listen to you talk about another man. I am sick of having to pretend that I don’t want you when the one thing I want most in the world is you. So I have to go, I have to protect myself.”

You take a step back; almost forced back by the sheer emotion lining his words. At some point through his speech, you start to shake your head, in utter disbelief at what George is finally confessing to you. Tears start to build in your eyes, making your vision blurry.

George stands by, watching the range of emotions crossing your face. All the while, he represses the urge to gather you in his arms and apologise for what he’s putting you through for being so cowardly as to wait this long to tell you how feels; how he has always felt.

You wipe away the tears that fall; desperately searching for your voice, “George,” You sob, “I don’t want you to go.”

“What other option do I have, darling?”

The term of endearment sends another wave of tears down your face. Almost blindly, you reach out for him. Brokenly, you sob, “I don’t want him. I never wanted him.”

George reels back as if he’s been slapped, “What?”

His breath comes quickly; panting like he used to do when he played Quidditch. He can hear his heart pounding; the blood rushing to his ears.

“I don’t want him,” You repeat; this time firmer, “I want you.”

The air is knocked out him; he’s left winded by your words; lungs working harder to pull in the oxygen they so desperately need. “But what about…” He starts at ask; his heart quieting his mind.

You shake your head; raising your shoulders in a pitiful shrug, “I didn’t think you would ever feel the same.”

“What gave you that idea?”

“We never spoke about our feelings, George! I’ve been your best friend since childhood, and you would think that emotion is something we’ve covered yet I always feel like there’s one wall still standing, not wanting me to break through.”

Anger rises in him; swift and sharp, “So your solution was to meet someone else?”

Something in you breaks; sobs cracking your chest in two, “I didn’t think you would ever love me, George. I couldn’t stand by, like you said, and watch from the side. I had to start living my life too.”

Determination dampens the anger; it grows within him, stretching its roots through his veins and planting his feet firmly to the ground. George has never asked for much; he’s never wanted for anything; always worked for what’s got. But right now, all he wants… all he desires is you.

In a voice no louder than a murmur, he says, “Then live that life with me.”

“What?” You ask; voice loud in the quiet room.

“Live that life with me,” George asserts; hands balled into fists at his side, “Forget him; forget him completely. Be with me, (Y/N).”

His voice has taken on a pleading note by the end of it, but he can’t bring himself to care. George has loved you since he was eleven years old; still figuring out the inner workings of the world, but he’s loved since then and he’ll love you long after. What he feels for you isn’t something that fades like a passing crush; his realisation of his love for you set it deep within his bone; binding to the very essence that makes him tick. He feels dramatic when he admits it to himself, but it’s true; he doesn’t think there would be a George without you.

You’ve loved George for as long as you can remember; never truly being able to pinpoint the exact moment when your heart decided that he was to be the one it gives its home too. The fact that you cannot find the one particular moment makes you think that on some level you’ve always been in love with George and have always known of your feelings – not ready to confront them until emotionally mature enough to handle them.

George has featured in your dreams for an age; always himself, always smiling, always reflecting love in his eyes.

His confessions leaves you shocked, but the growing elation in your body has a smile slowly making its way across your face.

Striding over to him; looking up into his eyes, you state clearly, “I want to live my life with you, George.”

“You do?” He asks; made breathless once more; hope turning his stomach into a mess of butterflies.

You nod; smiling widely, “Let’s do it, let’s live our lives together.”

It doesn’t take much prompting for George to pull you into his embrace; wrapping his arms around you so tightly you begin to wonder if he’ll cut off circulation through your body. He buries his face in your hair; inhaling the peppermint of your shampoo and conditioner. You hide your face in chest; letting the honeysuckle and gunpowder scent surround you – calming your heart, making you feel better.

“Are we really doing this?” He asks; voice awed.

You nod, sniffling, “Yeah, we are. George?”

George hums; looking down at you. You bite your lip; almost losing yourself in the brown of his eyes, “Kiss me?”

George’s eyes grow wide as he nods wildly; unable to stop himself for a moment before pulling himself together. He moves his hands from your waist; caressing your face in disbelief – he’s dreamed about this for years; he swore he sometimes woke up with the taste of you on his tongue.

With nothing but utter care, George kisses you. His lips brush your softly; testing the waters before kissing you harder. He claims your lips with an urge you had never felt from him before.

George’s mouth is hot and insistent on yours; pent up emotions finally breaking the surface. You gasp into the kiss; happy to have him so close to you after wanting no-one but him. George takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss; letting one hand fall to the small of your back, dipping you slightly as your arms wrap around his neck.

It’s some time before the kiss is broken; chests heave and quiet laughter shared as the both of you realise how much time could have been saved if you had both been honest about your feelings.

George presses his forehead to yours; closing his eyes and basking in the happiness surging through his veins. His arms tighten around you; content with the fact that he would never have to let you go again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> Tumblr: @iliveiloveiwrite


End file.
